Ghost Stories Of Isla Nublar
by Somethinghassurvived
Summary: Next time you go to Jurassic World, try not to think about the deaths that occurred on Isla Nublar back in the Jurassic Park Incident of 1992. And especially don't stray far from the path, or dinosaurs will be the least of your worries.
1. Chapter 1: Ray Arnold

Chapter 1: Ray Arnold

As you step into the neglected control room of the original Jurassic Park, the first thing you notice is the smell. It doesn't smell like mold, mildew, or any other scents of decay, despite the fact that the rest of the building smells like that. The smell of mildew and mold is the natural smell for a place that has been abandoned and left to rot in a tropical jungle for decades. Instead, it smells like cigarette smoke, like someone's been smoking Marlboros here recently. Suddenly, the smell takes a sharp turn towards the sulfurous and an electronic beeping alarm draws your attention. One of the yellowed, moldy CRT monitors has flared to life with a mildew-tinted yellowish green glow and is displaying a diagram of the original Jurassic Park. Parts of the diagram are flashing white in time with the beeping. BIP-BIP-BIP-bop-bop-bop-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-brnt-brnt-brnt...You realize it's showing the fences of the old park failing. This must be what the monitors showed on that fateful day in 1992.

Before you have time to try and comprehend what you're seeing, the monitor blacks out. A silent second passes as you try to figure out what just happened. There's no power in the old control room, hasn't been for decades. Then the seams of the monitor start gushing blood. You scream and turn to run, but as you do the door slams shut with a loud bang and a great plume of dust. You sense you're not alone in the room, and you turn around to find a black man with a pair of wire-rimmed glasses standing there, glaring at you. You know him, and he knows you. The right lens of his glasses is missing. His right eye is missing, along with half of his face. His throat has been torn out. His left arm is missing, and his intestines are hanging out of his body limply. His clothes are badly torn and stained with blood. God, that's a lot of blood. He smells like death. He _is_ dead. You left him to die in 1992, when the raptors came you ran. You could have saved him, you had the shotgun and you ran. He has a Marlboro clenched in his mouth, lit with sulfurous hellfire. "I'm here, I'm dead, and I'm fucking pissed off," he drawls. He steps forward. You scream.


	2. Chapter 2: Dennis Nedry

DENNIS NEDRY  
Another day, another dollar. Or night, as the case may be. You work at Jurassic World, doing the unglamorous but critical work of park maintenance. One of the distributor boxes for the park's electrical grid is on the fritz, and they sent you and a couple of your coworkers to fix it. It's in the Restricted Area, and if the power goes off there who knows what might happen. As you and your fellows trod through the thick Nublar jungle,and you thank your lucky stars there's no dinos about. The only dinosaurs out here are the raptors, kept locked up tight in that paddock. Man, that Grady fellow must be all sorts of crazy to try and train those things. Also whatever the heck is in that big paddock that security won't let anyone near. Is it really that important to keep reporters out that anyone who goes there has to get express clearance from the Operations Manager herself? As you walk and muse, the weather worsens, and it starts to rain. You reach the box and reach for your tools. Suddenly, you hear a scream coming from a thick grove of trees nearby. You drop your tools and run to help. The screaming ceases, and you run faster. Whoever it is is obviously in trouble, and every second counts. You push through thick undergrowth and almost trip on a couple of roots in your haste. You wonder how anyone ever got in here to begin with, and then you reach a clearing. No, not a clearing. Covered in leaves and debris, but lined with overgrown fencing, its clearly an abandoned road. The screaming starts up again. Running in the direction of the scream, you scale a steep incline, not noticing the shattered pair of glasses and can of shaving cream half-buried in the undergrowth. As you reach the top, the screaming abruptly stops. There, in a clearing, is a rusty, long-derelict Jeep with the faded remnants of the logo for the old Jurassic Park painted on the side. The interior is covered in old dried blood, and some bones peek out from the tattered remains of a yellow poncho. You got there too late. Thirty years too late.


	3. Chapter 3: John Hammond

Closing time.

You turn the sign on Jurassic Burger to "Closed" and walk behind the counter to clean up a few things. Suddenly you hear a voice.

"Jurassic World is really quite splendid."

You look up and an old man is standing there, dressed in white and carrying a cane.

You could swear you locked the door.

You put on a smile and say "I'm sorry sir, we're closed for the evening."

He smiles back. "Oh, no, no, I'm not here to order anything. I'm just looking."

"Sir, this is a restaurant. We're closed." You say in a deadpan voice. I mean, who does this guy think he is? Come to think of it, he seems familiar somehow.

"It really is something isn't it, dinosaurs being brought to life? I remember when that was the pinnacle of human achievement, but nowadays it's almost ordinary. Although the Indominus is, of course, another matter entirely. Mixing T-Rex and raptor doesn't strike me as the best idea. One of the reasons Jurassic Park failed, I failed, is because we knew nothing about the animals in our care. But that's neither here nor there. I dreamed of a world like this one, where the past was brought to life to astonish and amaze the kiddies. I love kids, don't you? Especially my grandchildren, but they're all grown up now. But I'm rambling."

This throws you for a loop. Who is this strange man? Why is he talking about the Park as if he was there? Was he a Park survivor? But the only Park survivor we employ is Gerry Harding, so how does he know about the Indominus? The only reason you know what it's called is because you recieved the recipe for the upcoming tie-in Indominus Rex Burger from corporate. So how does he know about its genetic composition?

"Um, sir..."

He stares into space. "You know, I once ran a flea circus. Petticoat Lane, it was called. We had...clown fleas, and highwire fleas, and fleas on parade. We had a wee trapeze, and a merry-go-...carousel. Heh. And a see-saw. All motorized, of course, but people would say they could see the fleas. 'Oh, mummy, can't you see the fleas?' But with the Park, I wanted to bring people something that wasn't an illusion. Something that was real. An aim not devoid of merit."

He looks at you with happy tears in his eyes. "I just wanted to thank Jurassic World for keeping my dream alive." Then he turns away and walks towards the door. As he reaches the door he fades away. You could swear you heard a faint, almost melancholy tinkling noise, like a sound effect from a Disney film. Then you realize where you've seen him before: There's a statue of him in the Innovation Center. He's John Hammond, and he is long dead. 


End file.
